To The Highest Love
by Endless.Love.Eternally
Summary: This is the sequel To The Highest Bidder by envysparkler. Both fanfics are AU (some magic involved)! Hermione has now been sold to Draco Malfoy in the package of marriage to increase his reputation and connections. Will Draco get more than what he bargained for? Will Hermione be anything more to him than just an advancement in society? Read and find out!
1. i'd be trouble

**Author's Note:**

**Cinders: embers/ashes**

**Dozent: Professor in German **

**Ruse: Cunning in French**

**Dedushka: Grandfather in Russian**

**Audentia: bold, courageous in Latin**

**Yin and Yang: "In Chinese culture, Yin and Yang represent the two opposite principles in nature. Yin characterizes the feminine nature of things and yang stands for the masculine side. Yin and yang are in pairs, such as the moon and the sun, female and male, dark and bright, cold and hot, passive and active, etc." – Jun Shan **

**The image of the Malfoy library can be the image of the Beauty and the Beast library (but with dark mahogany wood).**

**The image of Malfoy ballroom may be the image of the Beauty and the Beast ballroom (except instead of gold, it'll be more of a whitish silver). **

**Song: Temporary Home by Carrie Underwood**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all credit goes to J.K. Rowling. **

**This is a sequel to The Highest Bidder by envysparkler. I highly recommend you to read that first (it's a great story!), then the sequel. Enjoy!**

* * *

_I'd be trouble, to simply be myself._

The sun peered through Hermione's window, its rays caressing her face and hair as if to say: Wake up, darling. Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her hair was a tousled waterfall of dark wavy curls cascading down her back and her bed was a strangled mess of sheets and skewed pillows, both on and off the bed. She was surprised that she was able to sleep through the night that was filled with shadows and ominous darkness. She must have fallen asleep trying to stay awake. Although she was awake, Hermione made no move to leave her comfy bed. What was the point? Day after day, she woke up only to remain in her room. She hadn't explored the manor yet, fearing that she would get lost or locked in some secluded part of the house with no one to rescue her, not even her husband.

Hermione felt defeated. She felt more defeated than depressed. She felt as if her own existence was slowly waning away. It had been 3 months since she got married and she didn't know what to do or what she could even do. Knowing Draco, he might have a heart attack over something she did without his consent. As Hermione continued to sit there, trying to think of what she could do to pass the time, her mind drifted off to her husband. Ever since the night where he held her in his arms to sleep, she looked at him in a slightly newer light than before. He was still the cold man that she married, but he showed her that he could be considerate when he wanted to be. That one act of kindness was enough for him to have an infinitesimal, tiny part of her heart, despite her mind arguing with her otherwise. Plus, that was the best night of rest she ever got, possibly in her whole life. But, that was beside the point.

Hermione wondered if she went to him in the night when she was scared if he would hold her while she went to sleep again. She snorted. Yeah, right. That's not going to bloody likely ever happen again.

Focus, Hermione. Thinking of Draco wasn't going to solve her dilemma of boredom. Hermione got up and started to walk around her room looking for something, anything to keep her entertained, but then she heard a noise coming from within her bathroom. She froze, scared. She turned slowly and saw her reflection in her vanity mirror. She slowly walked towards it and took a closer look at herself. She looked like a scared woman, frightened by anything, and weak. She was tired of being scared, tired of being the frightened little kitten that always ran for cover. No. Not today. Today she would start _living_. Even if it meant living with a cold-hearted man in a beautiful, but dismal manor.

With a determined resolve, she hesitantly (but determinedly) made her way to her bathroom. She opened the door slowly and peered inside. It seemed normal - the big wide mirror above the sink was spotless, the marble on the counter glistened, the floor was polished, the massive bathtub and large shower was squeaky clean. She heard another noise farther in the bathroom, near the shelf of towels. As she slowly made her way into the bathroom one step at a time, she started to hear humming. Hermione was clearly confused, but curious as to what or who it was.

Hermione shrieked. She couldn't believe her eyes. In front of her was an elf, but not any type of elf, a house elf. And it was currently scrubbing the floor. Well, it was scrubbing her floor until she screamed and the poor thing jumped up so fast and stood there, staring at her.

"I'm sorry to have scared you, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm so sorry….stupid…bad servant….bad," the elf muttered to herself as she started to hit herself over and over again.

Hermione stood dumbfounded. "Please stop! Stop hitting yourself."

"Master Malfoy told me not to bug you. I bothered you. Bad servant…bad," the elf cried, as she kept hitting herself.

"Stop hitting yourself! I….uh… I forbid it!"

The elf stopped and peered up at Hermione. "Thank you Mistress Malfoy. You are very kind."

"What is your name?" Hermione asked as she squatted down to the same level as the elf.

"I don't have a name. I was never given one."

"You don't have a name?" Hermione exclaimed.

"No Mistress Malfoy," the elf replied, shaking her head no.

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes minutes before, but now she couldn't believe her ears. No name? How could this nice creature have no name? It didn't make any sense.

"How does Draco address you then?"

"He doesn't, Mistress Malfoy. He snaps his fingers and one of us appears."

"One of us? You mean there are more of you?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy," the elf said, nodding. "There are quite a few of us. We take care of the manor and whatever else Master Malfoy wishes us to do."

"And do any of the other elves have names either?"

"No. We all do not have names."

Hermione remained looking at the elf, deep in thought. These elves have always cleaned the manor, but she hadn't seen them once in the last three months that she'd been there. Draco must have told them to remain out of sight. She regarded the small elf in front of her once again, looking over her attire. She wore a dirty rag, but the ends of her rag looked as if they were singed from a fire. She knew from personal experience at the orphanage that not having a name meant you were unfit to be considered human, that you were trash – worthless and unwanted.

Hermione wondered if, maybe, she could name the elves. She was the mistress of the manor now, as said in the vows, what's mine is his and what's his is mine. Hermione smirked. She could do whatever she bloody wanted and damn it all to hell if Draco happened to disapprove.

"If that's the case, then I think as the Mistress of the Manor that I make some changes around here. Starting with your names. Hmmm….would you like your name to be Cinders?" Hermione asked, looking at the elf's face for any sign of disgust at the name. On the contrary, she found excitement and happiness in the elf's eyes.

"I am most happy to be named Cinders, Mistress Malfoy," the elf exclaimed excitedly.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "Can you take me to the others, please? I would like to give them names as well."

"Of course, Mistress Malfoy," Cinders excitedly proclaimed. "Please follow me."

Cinders led Hermione out into the hallway and down several corridors until they reached what looked like to be the entrance to the basement.

"Is this the basement, Cinders?"

"No Mistress Malfoy, this is the dungeon," Cinders replied as she continued to lead Hermione through the door and down a hallway.

Hermione scoffed. But, _of course_ there is a dungeon. I'm married to a cold-hearted man, I live in this dismal manor, a dungeon would fit perfectly. How could I possibly think it wouldn't?

Cinders stopped and opened a door at the very end of the hall. Hermione peered in and saw several elves all gathered together around something and were talking excitedly amongst each other. Cinders and Hermione silently crept up behind them to see what had captured not one, but all of their attention.

As they silently approached them, Hermione saw the object that had captured their attention. It was a photo. But it wasn't just any photo; it was a photo of the night where Draco held her in his arms. But that wasn't what entranced Hermione. Both Draco and herself looked . . . peaceful and content - they both had small smiles on their faces. Hermione was held in Draco's arms, his arms held tightly around her waist holding her to him, his nose slightly in her hair that was fanned out on the pillow and his chin above her head as Hermione snuggled into him, her head on his chest and her arms were nestled between their bodies. For a stranger on the outside looking in, they looked like . . . dare she say it . . . a beautiful, happy couple.

"Where did you get that?" Hermione questioned, clearly perplexed.

The elves jumped apart quickly, hid the photo behind their backs, and turned to face Hermione.

"Mi . . . Mistress Malfoy! We're sorry. We did not mean to cause you discomfort. Bad elves."

They all started to hit themselves, repeatedly.

"I forbid you to hit yourself."

Hermione squatted until she was their level and looked them in the eyes. "None of you are in trouble. But I would really like to know where you got that photo from."

The tiniest elf stepped forward, her ears down. "I . . . I . . . took the photo, Mistress Malfoy." The elf gulped once. "I . . . we never seen Master Malfoy look so peaceful. We never saw Mistress Malfoy before either. I wanted to keep the photo of my masters. You . . . *gulped again* you both looked happy." The elf wrung her hands in her shirt and hung her head low.

"Do you have a name?" Hermione asked softly.

"No, Mistress Malfoy," the elf replied, keeping her ears down and her head hung low still.

Hermione looked over the tiny elf. She was the smallest out of the rest of the elves and Hermione figured she must have been the youngest one as well. But this tiny elf stood her ground to her master, taking responsibility for her actions. Hermione admired her for her courage.

"Well then that simply just won't do. Your name will be Audentia." Hermione declared with a large smile. "The photo is beautiful."

The elf's head snapped up to look at Hermione. "Thank you Mistress Malfoy. You are most kind."

Hermione smiled back. "Can the rest of you please step forward? I would like to give you all names."

The five other elves stepped forward and Hermione named them one by one, looking each over with a critical eye. She stepped in front of the oldest elf and looked him over carefully. He was the oldest out of them all and she saw that he held himself with pride. But, she didn't miss the concerned look he had on his face when Audentia stepped forward to claim the photo. He reminded her of a caring grandfather. "You will be named Dedushka."

"Thank you Mistress Malfoy."

Hermione stepped in front of the next elf. There was something different about this elf. He held his hands behind his back while the rest of the elves held their hands in front of them. "What are you hiding behind your back?" She asked curiously.

The elf visibly cringed and slowly brought forward a book. Hermione raised an eyebrow and gently took the book from the elf. It read: The Republic by Plato.

The elf hung his head low and clenched his hands into his clothes, waiting to be yelled at for having a book.

"Your name will be Dozent. Tell me what you think when you finish it. I'm interested in hearing what you think." She handed him the book back and he looked at her surprised.

She smiled and she could see that intelligent gleam in his eye when he looked at her.

"Thank you Mistress Malfoy. You are so very kind. No one has done this before." Dozent replied excitedly, holding the book to his chest.

Hermione smiled and moved onto the next elf or rather, elves. The two elves were closely standing next to each other. If Hermione wasn't mistaken, she would have guessed these two elves were brother and sister. They seemed to be very close to each other, the brother standing slightly in front of his sister - as if to protect her. "You will be named Yin," Hermione declared, pointing towards the girl, "and you will be named Yang," pointing towards the boy.

Both elves smiled and said simultaneously, "Thank you Mistress Malfoy."

Hermione stepped in front of the very last elf. She had a few cuts here and there and a bandage on her arm.

"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked, concerned. "What happened?"

"Oh . . . umm . . . well, I was trying to pull a prank on Dozent when I fell into the rose bushes."

Hermione's eyebrows rose and a hint of a smile playing at her lips. Hermione could see the mischievous look in her eyes and laughed. "Well then, your name will be Ruse."

"Thank you Mistress Malfoy," Ruse replied.

Hermione stood up and looked at the seven before her. They all looked happy, with smiles lighting up their faces.

"Can you guys give me a tour of the manor please? I haven't been able to see it for myself, as I am a bit scared of this place. It's beautiful, but a bit dreary."

"We would be honored to, Mistress Malfoy."

The elves all lead her out of the dungeons, with Audentia and Cinders each holding one of Hermione's hands. They were all talking to her excitedly, telling her their favorite places to go and places she should see. Hermione couldn't help but laugh. They all looked so happy, so filled with joy. They spent the entire day showing Hermione the wonders of the manor, quickly changing her opinion of the manor from being dismal to being a treasure in disguise.

They showed her the beautiful gardens filled with flora with a variety of colors and species, they showed her the library extensively filled with books to the very ceiling, they showed her the grand ballroom where galas and balls would be held, they showed her the solitary room that had glass windows from the floor to the ceiling - it held a single piano in the very center of the large room. Peering through the large windows, the beautiful sunset could be seen as its warming rays flittered into the room, setting it alight.

"Does anyone know how to play piano?" She asked curiously.

"No, Mistress Malfoy. Master Malfoy played once, but that was all," Cinders stated.

"Would you play for us, Mistress Malfoy? Please?" Audentia asked.

Hermione looked at their pleading faces and didn't have it in her heart to deny them. Hermione acquiesced. "Very well. One song."

"Yipee!" The seven elves roared.

Hermione smiled and sat down on the piano bench while all the elves gathered around her. She decided that it would be best if she just played something from her heart. And so, she began to play and sing.

* * *

Draco arrived home, exhausted. It was another tiring day running his father's company. He felt as if he had aged 10 years in the last six months. The company was successful and growing more successful, but there was just something missing from it, but he couldn't figure out just what exactly. He'd been trying to figure it out for the last 6 months and still, nothing. He ran Malfoy Industries that was responsible for products in all departments of beauty, health, medicine, sports, hardware, and etc. He never thought he'd see the day where he'd be running his father's company at the age of 20, stuck in a loveless marriage, and feeling lonely as ever. He rarely ever saw his wife, she never came out of that sanctuary of a room of hers. Draco would never dare to say it aloud, but he savored the moment when he held his wife in his arms to sleep, it had such a feeling of rightness to it; a feeling that scared the heck out of him.

Heaving a sigh, Draco loosened his tie around his neck and walked to the den to put away his briefcase_._ He snapped his fingers and waited. Nothing happened. He snapped his fingers again and nothing happened, again. Draco instantly got frustrated, where the heck are these elves? They are supposed to appear instantly. In the middle of his rant, he stopped. He thought he had heard what sounded like to be music and . . . singing. No one in this house sings or plays music. What the bloody hell is going on around here?

Draco followed the music and he opened the door very slowly and silently. He was shocked, to say the least. Before him was his wife playing the piano and singing her heart out. And she was singing to the elves!, no less. Before he was able to interrupt, he became transfixed at the sight of her - she was dressed in a simple gown with her hair cascading down her back while the last rays of sunlight fell upon her - giving her an angelic glow. He thought she looked beautiful.

Then he heard her emotion-filled words.

_Little boy, six years old  
A little too used to being alone  
Another new mom and dad  
Another school, another house that will never be home  
When people ask him how he likes this place  
He looks up and says with a smile upon his face_

_This is my temporary home, it's not where I belong_  
_Windows and rooms that I'm passing through_  
_This is just a stop on the way to where I'm going_  
_I'm not afraid because I know_  
_This is my temporary home_

_Young mom, on her own_  
_She needs a little help, got nowhere to go_  
_She's looking for a job, looking for a way out_  
_'Cause a halfway house will never be a home_  
_At night she whispers to her baby girl_  
_"Someday we'll find our place here in this world"_

_This is our temporary home, it's not where we belong_  
_Windows and rooms that we're passing through_  
_This is just a stop on the way to where we're going_  
_I'm not afraid because I know_  
_This is our temporary home_

None of them saw Draco, nor did they see him hide.

Hermione ended the song, but remained still for a few moments, a few tears falling down her face.

"Mistress Malfoy, are you alright?" Dedushka asked worriedly.

Hermione wiped her tears and graced them all with a large smile. "I'm doing fine. Thank you all for showing me the manor and for showing me this room. It's been . . . ," Hermione paused trying to find the correct term, but as she gazed out the window towards the sunset, towards the garden that can be seen, and then back to the elves before her, she immediately said, "enchanting."

"Mistress Malfoy, it may not be our place, but would you tell us what that song was about or what inspired it?" Dozent asked curiously.

"Always the curious one, Dozent." Hermione chuckled. "Long ago when I was a little girl, my parents were killed. I had no next of kin or family, so I was placed in an orphanage. It was a dreadful place – it was my first temporary home. I was soon adopted by Tom Marvolo Riddle. Some said I was lucky, but to me, it wasn't all that different from where I was before. He gave me my second temporary home. Now, I live here with you all."

_Draco's thoughts: Dozent?_

"Is this your next temporary home, Mistress Malfoy?" Audentia asked nervously.

Hermione regarded the seven elves before her and her current situation. She may not like it, but this time, she wasn't at a temporary home; she was at her permanent home. She just had to deal.

"No." She shook her head, slowly. "This will be my permanent home."

All the elves graced her with a smile.

"Can you tell us about your Father?" Dedushka asked curiously.

"Can you all keep a secret?"

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy!" They all said simultaneously.

"Hmm . . . I don't know if I should tell you guys." Hermione said, jokingly.

"We can keep a secret, Mistress Malfoy!" Audentia said, excitedly.

"You can, huh?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, but you all have to solemnly swear to never tell another what I am about to tell you?" Hermione said raising her right hand.

"We solemnly swear." They all said simultaneously, right hands raised.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle is a very different man from how the world sees him. He is indeed a very cold-hearted man. He does everything for his gain, his benefit. He is the type of man that would burn the world just to see it die," Hermione paused and then slowly added, "and because he can."

All elves gasped.

"He manipulates the world like a game of chess. He is the King and we are all his pawns - you, Draco and me."

"Is that so?" Draco asked, making his presence known.

Hermione and the elves looked up, surprised.

"Malfoy."

"Draco. You are, after all, a Malfoy." He sneered.

"Unfortunately." Hermione replied with disgust.

"Who told you that you could come in here?" He demanded.

"No one. I didn't realize that I needed your permission for anything, _darling_. As you already stated: I'm a Malfoy. We do as we please." Hermione scoffed, rising to stand.

Draco smirked. "You're right about that _wife_. What's this I hear about your Father? A cold-hearted man? I wonder what he would say to hear his _only_ beloved daughter speak of him in such a manner."

"It doesn't matter what I think. The only thing that matters is what the world thinks of him. And right now, the world thinks him to be the most charitable man in the world." Hermione exclaimed, glaring.

Draco scoffed, "Such a shame that you don't share the same opinion. He did, after all, adopt you and gave you a life. How ungrateful."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You don't know a thing about me. Yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle is my Father, but I am neither deaf nor blind to what he does or has done to succeed in the world. He _is _ruthless. You and him are no different - both cut from the same cloth, both cold-hearted, both cruel, and both harsh."

"I wouldn't be so quick to judge me. You don't know me," Draco spat.

"You're right. I don't. Now that we both understand each other, I'm off to bed." With that, Hermione swept passed him and was almost out the door when she said, "Cinders, Audentia, Dedushka, Yin, Yang, Dozent, Ruse, thank you for showing me the manor. You may now do as you please." With that, the elves apparated to their living quarters and Hermione proceeded to her room.

Several moments passed before Hermione heard Draco shout: YOU NAMED THE BLOODY ELVES?

Hermione smirked. Living was fun. Hermione: 1 Draco: 0


	2. i'd smile

**Author's Note:**

**In case you get confused, the italicized words are their thoughts. Enjoy! **

**Library: Think of the Beauty and the Beast library**

**Song: Can't Make You Love Me by Bonnie Raitt (cover by Rozzi Crane)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, credit goes to J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

_I'd smile, just to hide the pain._

It was a long, tiring day for Draco. Once home, he immediately headed to the library. He spent most of his time in the library rather than the den, preferring to use the long coffee table between the two couches that sat in front of the fireplace in lieu of his desk. The library provided his life with a gentle touch of warmth and a bit of comfort, which was something he wasn't used to. He pushed the library doors wide open and walked in, muttering curses under his breath about incompetent workers, difficult company partners, and the missing part to the company that was still nagging at his brain to be discovered. He was in a middle of his whispered rant when he froze at the sight of Hermione. _She looked adorable. _

Hermione was perched comfortably on the couch near the roaring fire in the fireplace, reading a novel. The flickering light danced along her black nightgown and across her face, illuminating her deep look of concentration and giving her skin a warm glow. She was so immersed in her book to the extent that she didn't hear Draco come barging in, let alone sprouting unpleasantries.

"Hermione." Draco whispered.

Hermione was so deep in her book, she thought she heard a voice calling her name. But she disregarded it as her mind playing tricks on her, so she continued to read.

"Hermione." Draco said a bit louder.

Still no response.

"Hermione!" Draco yelled.

"Ahhh!" Hermione jumped up so fast and dropped her book, facing Draco. "Oh my gosh, Draco. Don't scare me like that." She stood facing him, placing a hand over her beating heart, trying to slow down her breathing. While doing so, she noticed Draco's appearance. He looked so tired, bags under his eyes, hair ruffled, and he looked skinnier than before. In one word, haggard.

"Draco, are you alright?" She asked, her voice full of concern, walking a few steps towards him. _He looked almost dead. _Compassion filled Hermione, here was the man that held her in his arms to provide her comfort and safety when she was scared and he was looking almost dead. Hermione didn't have it in her to be mean to him.

Draco did not respond, but continued to look at her, transfixed.

"Draco." Hermione said a bit louder.

Still no response.

"Draco!"

"Huh?" Draco said, snapping out of his trance.

"I asked if you were alright. You look sick."

"I'm perfectly fine." He scoffed, folding his arms.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You're lying and I'm not stupid. Anyone with eyes could see that you are far from being fine. Have you eaten?"

"Of course I have. I ate breakfast."

"Breakfast?! That was more than 12 hours ago. Sit here." Hermione demanded, pointing to the couch. "I'll be right back." With that, she strode out of the library.

Draco was too tired to argue and did as he was told. Ten minutes passed and Hermione still hadn't come back. Pulling the coffee table closer to him, he pulled out his paperwork and began working. He didn't notice Hermione walk into the library with a tray of food, until she snatched the papers out of his hands to get his attention.

"Hey that's - ."

"Time to eat." Hermione stated, placing in front of him homemade beef stew, seasoned diced baked potatoes, garlic-sautéed rice, and a tall glass of ice tea.

Draco couldn't stop his mouth from watering at the delicious food in front of him. He couldn't remember the last time when he ate a home cooked meal. But he couldn't stop himself from asking: "Why?"

"I admit, we don't get along great. To be completely honest, we don't get along at all. Period. You barely eat, barely sleep, and you've lost so much weight." Hermione exclaimed, concern in her voice and eyes as she looked at him. By now, Hermione had now resumed to sit on the couch across from him.

"Why do you care?"

"You're my husband."

"So?"

"To many people, that's more than enough reason to care. But think of this as a thank you for comforting me that one night. Now eat." With that, Draco began eating and Hermione began to read the papers she snatched from him.

"So what exactly are you working on anyway?" Hermione asked, reading and flipping through his papers.

"Those are confidential."

"Who am I going to tell? The man in the painting? You're the CEO of the company, you can tell whoever you want. Besides, you know who my Father is. He raised me to be the very best in almost anything."

"Is that so?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes."

"Alright. I'll bite. What do you know of Malfoy Industries?"

"Just about anything that any outsider would know. Maybe even more. Ask me anything." Hermione challenged, looking Draco dead in the eye.

"Who was the first CEO?"

"Leo Evander Malfoy."

"What does the Malfoy Insignia contain?"

"In the center of the insignia lies a shield containing a dragon in the innermost part with mystic symbols riding along the edges of the shield. Directly behind the shield is the intersection of two long-edged swords with encrusted hilts. Each hilt contains an orb surrounded by two dragons on each side, leading to a ridged handle with a circular pommel. Behind these two intersecting swords lies two dragons, holding an orb together with one claw as their wings fan out and their tales intertwine vertically down the insignia."

"Was my family wealthy before Malfoy Industries was invented?"

"Yes. Your family is one of the richest and most influential families in the world."

"Has my family always been influential?"

"From my understanding, your family can be dated back to the 13th century in France, maybe even farther back. But even then, your family has been influential – a noble family."

"How did Malfoy Industries come about?"

"The public has been told that Malfoy Industries was created to bring about the essential necessities for human beings. If the person needed something, anything at all, then the first place they would search would be Malfoy Industries and nowhere else. Leo Evander Malfoy created this image that Malfoy Industries was everything the world _needed_. No one would turn to any other company when Malfoy Industries was in existence, there was no need."

"All your answers are correct." Draco said, clearly impressed.

"But I don't think that's what really happened. Tell me, Draco, what happened to Athena Malfoy?"

"She disappeared." Draco replied, clearly confused with the direction the conversation was heading.

"No, I don't think so." Hermione exclaimed, leaning forward. "I think she was traded. Traded for this ideal company. Did Leo Malfoy marry her for love or for business?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

"Your family is wealthy and when I mean wealthy, I mean old money. Money has been connected to the Malfoy name centuries before you were born. Leo Evander Malfoy is a businessman and just like every businessman, there is always room to expand, progress, and to acquire more money. Athena Malfoy didn't disappear. She was traded. Traded for the idea of Malfoy Industries from the original maker of Malfoy Industries."

"Stop it! You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"It's true, isn't it? Leo Malfoy sold her, sold her for connections and ideas." Hermione taunted, rising from the couch and now standing and staring at Draco. "Just like me."

"Enough." Draco hissed. He was now towering over Hermione, a hard glint in his eye. "Did you come to this conclusion yourself? How very clever of you. A word of advice, _wife_ - you should _never_ talk about matters you know nothing about, it's unbecoming of a Malfoy. If there is something a Malfoy does, it's take care of their own. We do not belittle each other in public, we do not besmirch each other's reputations, and we treat each other with respect.. We may not love each other, but we tolerate another's presence. Leo Evander Malfoy loved his wife - she was his world. He loved her with every fiber of his being and vice versa. Their love was one that would match that of the gods - invincible and aesthetic. The only thing you and Athena have in common is this: you were both married for connections and reputation. So let me make one thing _very _clear, in all other regards to Athena Malfoy – _you don't measure up_."

Draco walked to one of the aisles of books, in search of something. He returned and dropped onto the table several medium-sized books that seemed to look like journals, a large tome, old newspaper clippings stapled together, and a photo album.

"The world sees the Malfoy name and what we want them to see. A Malfoy's business, is just that - a Malfoy's business. No one else's. Read these. Maybe, just maybe you'll learn how to be a _true _Malfoy," he sneered.

Draco glared at her one more time and started making his way to the library door. With his hand on the doorknob, his back facing Hermione, he said: "One more thing, dear wife. I suggest you learn quickly, we are to attend a dinner at the end of the month at your father's insistence."

With that said, Draco threw her the invitation and left the library, papers and briefcase in hand without a backwards glance.

Hermione: 1 Draco: 1

* * *

Hermione remained rooted to her spot, staring at the library door that Draco just stormed through. She couldn't get what he said out of her head. _You don't measure up. You don't measure up. You don't measure up._ A single tear slipped down her cheek as it continued to replay in her head. _You don't measure up._ Subconsciously, Hermione's hands clenched into fists in anger, crushing the invitation she held. More tears continued to fall down her cheeks. _How dare he! The nerve of that pompous git! I don't measure up? Fucking rubbish._

Hermione continued to vent as she tore open the invitation viciously. _Idiotic, pompous asshole. I don't measure up? Well obviously I measure up if he married me for connections and wealth. Imbecile. He doesn't measure up! Stupid jackass. _

Hermione stopped her rant when she saw the invitation.

You are cordially invited to the _Riddle's Thanksgiving Dinner, _which will be held at Riddle Mansion on Thanksgiving Evening,to appreciate our families and our friends. It is the season to reflect upon our past failures and to celebrate our successes. But more importantly, it is the season of giving, so the Thanksgiving Charity will be accepting donations for _Coopers Home For Children._

_Daughter,_

_I insist that you attend._

_-Father_

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Whenever Tom Riddle used "insist" it was synonymous with "obey or suffer dire consequences." Chills ran up Hermione's spine as she recalled when she was 15 years old and had made what seemed to be a harmless mistake.

_**Flashback**_

_**Hermione stood before Tom Riddle in his office. He was intently working on paperwork, scribbling away notes on the margins and referencing files while simultaneously demanding things to be done by his secretary, Miss Bella, who was standing in front of his desk, scribbling away on a notepad. **_

"_**Hermione." **_

"_**Yes, Father?"**_

"_**This week you are to continue your vigorous study sessions with your tutors. You are not to fall behind in your studies and you are to complete your list of chores. Also, from now on, Miss Bella will be instructing you in fine etiquette. Do I make myself clear?" He asked, a hard glint in his eye.**_

"_**Yes, Father. But who is Miss Bella?"**_

"_**My secretary. She is highly recommended for both her secretarial potential as well as her etiquette at being a very proper lady. You are a lady; it's time you act like one."**_

"_**Yes, Father."**_

_**Tom Riddle smiled. "You are now excused." With that, he returned to his paperwork.**_

_**- 3 days passed -**_

_**Hermione was studying in the library, but her eyes kept drooping shut. **__So sleepy, must stay awake. __**She walked to the couch and laid down. **__Maybe he won't mind if I just take a quick nap first before studying and completing my chores. Yes, I think that's what I'll do._

_**Apparently it wasn't a harmless mistake that she made. **_

_**She was violently awakened to see Tom Riddle's vicious eyes peering down at her. His eyes became a violent shade of red as his voice harshly spat: "Wake up you insolent child. I adopted you and I can easily put you back in that orphanage. You are to increase my wealth and connections." He was now directly in front of Hermione's face, glaring. "Dare to defy me again and you **_**will **_**be sorry."**_

_**From then on, she dared to never disobey him no matter how tired or how angry she was. She feared what the punishment would be, but most of all, she did not want to return to the orphanage. With Riddle, she had a warm bed, food to eat, and several articles of clothing. With Riddle, she had a life – maybe not the life she wanted, but something better than the orphanage.**_

_**End of flashback**_

Hermione couldn't help but crumble the invitation in her hand. All she ever wanted was affection, to be loved. Was that really too much to ask for in this hopeless place? Tom Riddle didn't love her and neither did Draco. She threw the crumbled invitation in the fireplace, quickly grabbed the journals, the large tome, the old newspaper clippings, and the photo album. She made her way towards her bedroom, but quickly changed her mind and walked in the opposite direction. Granted, her bedroom could offer her guaranteed privacy, but privacy wasn't what she was looking for at the moment. She needed something that her bedroom could not give her; she needed a place that could allow her to channel those pent-up emotions into something other than tears. So she went to the room that relaxed her most in the manor - the piano room.

Once there, she placed everything on the piano top and heavily sat down on the piano bench. She slowly placed her head upon her folded arms that rested on the piano keyboard and within seconds, heart-wrenching sobs racked her body. She cried for all the times she felt unloved, she cried for all the times she had to put on a façade to be the perfect wife or daughter, she cried for all the times she felt helpless and scared in the dark, but most of all, she cried because she was so tired. So tired of pretending, so tired of being unloved, and so tired of trying to be strong. She was so tired of this sad life she lived.

Right outside the piano room was Draco, standing with his eyes closed as he rested his forehead and hands on the closed door. _She's crying and it's my fucking fault._

Draco sighed as he continued to listen to her cry her heart out. This sham of a marriage was taking its toll on him. He just couldn't help, but argue with her every time they spoke, it was just so difficult to be civil to someone who constantly provoked you. She was always getting under his skin, always pushing his buttons. Everything would be going fine and then she had to open her smart mouth to say something that would ruin the sweet silence. But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy getting a rise out of her. And he'd be damned if he didn't love watching her face flush pink when she was angry or the way she would clench her fists in anger when he pushed her to the limits. He thought that this time wouldn't be any different than any other argument they've had – he'd say something rude, she'd insult him back, he'd insult her, and then he would leave and she would go to her room in a huff. But he didn't think she'd cry, at least not like this. Not heart-wrenching sobs as if someone had just passed away. _Damn. She was in the wrong, so why the hell do I feel guilty? Shit._

He grabbed the doorknob and was about to turn it to go to her, but he stopped. _Why is it quiet all of sudden?_ He placed his ear to the door and listened. Soon enough he heard the piano's melody. He sighed once again; he turned and slid his back down the door. Now sitting, he leaned his back on the door, bent his head, and closed his eyes to listen. Soon enough, he heard her sorrow-filled words.

**Turn down the lights;  
Turn down the bed.  
Turn down these voices  
Inside my head.**

**Lay down with me;**  
**Tell me no lies.**  
**Just hold me close;**  
**Don't patronize.**

**Don't patronize me.**

_**[Chorus:]**_**  
'Cuz I can't make you love me  
If you don't.  
You can't make your heart feel  
Something it won't.  
Here in the dark  
In these final hours,  
I will lay down my heart  
And I'll feel the power;  
But you won't.  
No, you won't.  
'Cuz I can't make you love me  
If you don't.**

**I'll close my eyes,**  
**Then I won't see**  
**The love you don't feel**  
**When you're holding me.**

**Morning will come,**  
**And I'll do what's right;**  
**Just give me till then**  
**To give up this fight.**

**And I will give up this fight**.

_**[Chorus]:**_

**'Cuz I can't make you love me  
If you don't.  
You can't make your heart feel  
Something it won't.  
Here in the dark  
In these final hours,  
I will lay down my heart  
And I'll feel the power;  
But you won't.  
No, you won't.  
'Cuz I can't make you love me**

_Damn. Fuck. Shit._ Draco lifted his hands to wipe the silent tears he cried. Tears that he continued to cry to the piano's melody. He cried for this sham of a marriage, he cried for all the times he was pushed to the limits by his father to take over the company, he cried for the ruthless industry of business, he cried for the pain he caused Hermione, he cried for his horrible childhood, he cried for all the times he felt unloved, but most of all, he cried because he was so tired. Tired of living the life his parents wanted for him.

Together they cried, with Draco against the door and Hermione playing the sorrowful melody on the piano. Neither knowing the other was present, neither knowing that they had more in common than they realized. Both knowing that their life wasn't what they wanted, but both promising themselves to make it better, to change. Nothing could be heard for the rest of the night, except for Hermione's melody as both continued to shed silent tears.

Hermione: 1 Draco: 1


	3. i'd change

**Author's Note:**

**To Reviewers: I love all your reviews! They've made me feel proud of my first Dramione fanfic, even though it's a sequel, but it has renewed my vigor to continue to write this Dramione with gusto. I am truly amazed that my fanfic was able to evoke such emotion within it's readers. It's truly amazing.**

**To the guest reviewer Tanya, I am truly touched by your review. It allowed me to see the awe and appreciation that you have for my fanfic, the same kind of awe I have when reading and writing Dramione. I literally felt such pride and appreciation within me. Thank you for that. As for Hermione, she's still all fire. Don't you worry about that. XD **

**I'll do my best in writing this Dramione fanfic, I hope I don't disappoint! **

**Thank you to my Beta readers: LionshadeSC and The-Dragon's-Secret!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all credit goes to J.K. Rowlings.**

* * *

_i'd change, just to deceive the world_

All was quiet in the elves quarters as the clock stroke two in the morning. All the elves were asleep in their beds except for one little brave elf, Audentia. It broke her heart to have heard the Master and Mistress Malfoy argue once again, but Audentia knew that this time it was undeniably different. Neither the Mistress nor Master ever cried before, but it wasn't necessarily the crying that puzzled Audentia. It was the strong and powerful raw emotion behind the tears that could be heard when Mistress Malfoy sang; it was the anguish that could be seen on Master Malfoy's sobbing face, and the hurt that could be unavoidably felt. This wasn't just any ordinary type of pain like when a young lady is rejected by her first love – no it wasn't that type of pain. This type of pain took time to progress. This type of pain took years to accumulate, years of turmoil and distress, years of sadness and disappointment, years of no appreciation and no love; this type of pain took years to silently reach a massive crescendo. This type of pain resulted in grief and agony. This type of pain resulted in misery and despair. This type of pain resulted in emotional scarring and damage. Unfortunately, it was strongly felt by both Draco and Hermione.

Without being seen, Audentia had witnessed the entire fight from the yelling to the crying from the library to the piano room. It made her insides hurt and her heart ache with sadness. Two hours had passed since the fight at midnight and the last time she checked both her masters were still where they were after the fight, Hermione on the piano and Draco outside the piano room door – both fast asleep. She pulled out the photo she took 3 months ago and stared at it once again, which was possibly the twentieth time she'd done that in the last two hours. She knew her masters would be happy together, but they were just too stubborn to see that. She knew that there was too much anger between the two, but she was always a strong believer in the phrase: there is a thin line between love and hate. But she also knew that there wasn't much love or appreciation in either of their lives.

From what she read in the papers, Hermione's parents were killed in a robbery of their own home, but for some unknown reason, Hermione was spared and dropped at the doorstep of the Coopers Home for Children orphanage. Audentia never visited the orphanage, but it wasn't necessary to know that it wasn't the best place for a child to be raised nor was it the friendliest or the most loving. Truth be told, children in the orphanage had it rough with uncomfortable living arrangements, barely any nourishment to go around, and the only article of clothing was what you wore when you entered the orphanage. However, due to donations, the children were able to get one new set of clothing. If there weren't any funding, the children would receive hand-me-downs from each other, if they were lucky enough.

At an early age, Hermione was chosen and adopted by Tom Marvolo Riddle. Audentia didn't know anything about her life with Riddle, but from what Hermione had said before, Riddle was a force to be reckoned with and had molded her into being his golden ticket for more money, a greater reputation, and increased connections. To the public, Hermione was considered personified perfection with beautiful dark chestnut curls that fell like a waterfall down her back, with flawless facial features of high cheekbones, a bottom lip fuller than her top lip (giving her the image of always slightly pouting), nicely curved eyebrows, a feminine jaw, and deep chocolate brown eyes with flecks of hazel and cinnamon. She wasn't extremely skinny, but she was willowy voluptuous with envious womanly curves. She was beautiful, especially when she smiled her Colgate Smile that revealed a slight dimple on the left side of her mouth. To the public, she was the beauty every man desired to have and she was the highly intelligent and incredibly beautiful daughter of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the most charitable man in the world. However, the public sees only what it is shown. No one knew Hermione's childhood with Tom Riddle. No one knew about her vigorous study sessions, her non-stop music lessons, and her endless list of chores to keep house. No one saw the dark side of Tom Riddle that pushed her to always perform and be the best. She had expectations to meet and incredibly large shoes (or high heels) to fill. She was expected to be the best of the best . . . and after 15 years of training, she almost was.

From what Audentia had been told, Draco was the only child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. He was declared to be the most handsome and the most wanted bachelor in all of London before he married Hermione. In every public interview or event, he was the perfect gentleman unless provoked to be otherwise. Even in those cases, he had class with intimidating power. In every argument, he was the epitome of the three C's: cool, calm, and collected. He didn't yell and he never raised his voice. Despite this, no one dared to challenge Draco Malfoy. He was forceful, powerful, and thorough in all he did. He was the perfect son that every couple coveted to have. He was the cream of the crop of the greatest pedigree of high-class society with handsome features that consisted of golden locks of the sun, prominent cheekbones, a strong sophisticated jaw, a straight edged nose, and stunning grey eyes like thunderous storm clouds. He was an Adonis with endless riches, wealth, and high intelligence. Like Hermione, no one really knew about the childhood of Draco, but it can be safely assumed that it was like the rest of high-class society raised children. He was privately tutored, he was taught by his mother about high-class society ideals and values, he was taught what his position in society was and what it could be, and he was instructed by his father the Malfoy ideals and expectations as well as understanding the family trade, Malfoy Industries. Just like Hermione, he had big shoes to fill. He had the Malfoy name and honor to uphold, he had the Malfoy pride to maintain, and he had to be the best of the best . . . and after 15 years of training, he almost was.

But Audentia knew that there was more to her Masters than what the public saw. The public didn't know their fiery personalities, their flaming tempers, their hidden vulnerabilities, nor did they know about their longing to be loved or appreciated. Audentia never knew such two people who had more in common than her masters. She glanced down at the photo again, clutching it tight within her grasp as she continued to pace. _There must be a way for them to fall in love. There has to be._ _They just need a little push in the right direction; they need help to get the ball rolling for them to see that they are perfect for each other. But how?_

Audentia stared down at the photo she held in her hand again. She knew what she had to do. With a determined resolve that gleamed in her eyes and a reassuring nod to herself, she disappeared with a pop of apparition.

* * *

_**Draco awoke to a straining pain in his neck. After cracking his neck to the left and to the right, he wiped his tear-stained cheeks and rose to stand. He stopped for a moment and a recollection of what took place the night before came washing back to him. He turned to try to enter the piano room, only to find that there was no room behind him, just a solid wall.**_

"_**Hello?" Draco asked, looking around. It was foggy, but from what he could see, he was in a corridor with multiple doors. He tried to enter some of the doors in the corridor only to find that they were all locked. He looked around again and decided to proceed down the corridor.**_

_**Within minutes, it led him to a sitting room. "Hello?" Upon closer examination, he realized that he wasn't in his manor, but his family house – the other Malfoy Manor, only that it looked quite different. **_

_**There was a faint light illuminating the end of the hallway on the other side of the room. Draco began to inch closer and pushed open the slightly ajar room. "Hello? Is anyone here?"**_

_**Before him was a library - several shelves to the ceiling packed with literature, scrolls, documents – with a sitting area laid out tastefully before a beautiful fireplace. As he began to inch closer, he could hear soft singing coming from a reading chair that was positioned diagonally from the fireplace, the back of it facing him. "Hello?"**_

_**The singing stopped. "Draco, child. I've been waiting for you." An arm appeared on the side of the chair to point to another reading chair directly across it. "Please, have a seat."**_

_**Draco cautiously took the seat and couldn't believe his eyes as he stared at the woman before **__**him sitting as regal as a Queen. His jaw dropped as he uttered, "A…a..a..Athena Malfoy."**_

_**Her beautiful gray eyes pierced through Draco's soul as she stared at him contently with a hint of a smirk playing at her lips. "Malfoy's never stutter. They - "**_

" – _**speak clearly, smoothly, fluently, and confidently. No stuttering and no hesitation." **_

_**With a raised eyebrow, Athena replied, "You are definitely a Malfoy, my dear. It is a pleasure to meet my great-great-great-great-great grandson."**_

_**Draco stared at the woman before him, dumbfounded. She was as beautiful as the portraits of her. She was a rare beauty with flawless cream skin, mercurial grey eyes, and dark chocolate wavy hair. She looked as if she hadn't aged at all, remaining as youthful as her photos.**_

"_**Now Draco, I've been told that you've married Hermione Riddle. She sure is quite beautiful. When can I expect to have some great-great-great-great-great great grandchildren?"**_

"_**Never." Draco scoffed.**_

"_**Interesting. Tell me what comes to mind when you think of your wife."**_

_**Relative or not, Draco didn't take orders from others well. "Stubborn, annoying, temperamental, bookworm, know-it-all, fearful, frustrating, depressed, lonely, nerve wracking, disobedient, ignorant, prejudice, snobbish, and walks with a stick up her ass."**_

_**Athena's eyes narrowed. "What else?"**_

_**Draco's eyes mirrored Athena's as he sneered, "That is all."**_

"_**And what does she think of you?"**_

"_**A pompous, spoiled rich git that is the scum of the earth and a demon from hell."**_

"_**She sounds accurate."**_

_**Draco stood to stand before her with a steely resolve. "You may be my several-great grandmother, but I will not sit here and have you mock me. I must remind you that you don't know me and I do not know you. Now I must bid thee adieu. I would say it has been a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie and Malfoy's never lie." He bowed before her in a mock gesture and proceeded to make his way to the library door. **_

"_**That's a lie."**_

_**Draco stopped, his back still facing her. "Excuse me."**_

_**There was a long pause.**_

"_**Do you want your wife to live like your mother, Draco?" Athena softly asked, still sitting in her chair, having not moved an inch.**_

_**There was silence. He stood with his back to her, facing the library door and she remained seated in her chair, gazing deeply into the fire roaring in the fireplace. They were back to back, with 15 feet separating them.**_

"_**How do you know?" Draco whispered.**_

"_**Do you remember when your mother would be verbally abused by your father? Or when your mother would silently cry herself to sleep? Remember how crushed she was to learn that your father was a cheating bastard? Do you remember the pained look upon your mother's face whenever your father would demean her efforts at satisfying his wishes? Do you remember when - "**_

_**Draco spun around and glared to where Athena sat. "I am not my father."**_

_**With a snap of a finger, a hologram appeared before him, playing out the argument between Hermione and him from the very beginning to the very end. He was shocked to see how much pain and grief that was reflected in her chocolate brown eyes as she cried and the sorrow in her voice as he watched her sing. But he was even more shocked to see his crying face and then looked back to Hermione's crying face. Realization dawned on Draco as he thought:**__ her pain, my pain - it is the same._

"_**But you are child, you are."**_

_**With another snap, the hologram changed and replayed a night from 3 months ago. He saw the broken glass crash into the ground as he slammed Hermione against the wall, while he mercilessly taunted her. He focused in on the fear within her eyes as he watched his hand travel down her dress, tearing it apart while the other was tightly wrapped around her delicate neck. Then he heard her beg his name to stop.**_

_**He looked away from the hologram. He couldn't help the single tear that slid down his cheek. He felt ashamed and . . . angry. Angry at himself for being just like his father – something he vowed to never become. **_

"_**What gives you the right to just come into my life and meddle? What gives you the right?!" Draco yelled.**_

"_**Malfoy's do not lose their temper, they - " **_

"_**Damn the Malfoy rules. What gives you the right?" Draco sneered, glaring at the back of the chair.**_

"_**You can be better than your father. Your wife has more Malfoy in her than Riddle, more than you give her credit for. If you just - " **_

"_**You don't know her." Draco spat.**_

"_**Neither do you. You two are more alike than you can imagine and she can love you if you give her the chance." Athena explained, now standing to confront Draco, face to face. "She can love you like no other woman and you can do the same for her. Give her a chance, give yourselves a chance," Athena pleaded.**_

_**Draco stared back into matching silver eyes and laughed. "Love? That's idiotic."**_

"_**Why is it so hard to believe? You believed in my love to Leo," Athena asked, disbelief blatant on her beautiful face.**_

"_**That love only comes in fairy tales, in dreams. It's not real, at least not anymore," Draco cynically stated, once again turned so that his back faced Athena. "Goodbye grandmother."**_

"_**You didn't answer my question, Draco. Why?" Athena questioned softly, staring intently at Draco who stiffened and peered over his shoulder to address her, a lone tear flowing down his cheek.**_

"_**Because I can't love. I don't know how," he whispered.**_

_**With that said, Draco exited the library, the door softly closing behind him.**_

_**Athena stared after him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She turned and watched as her beloved made his way to her from the end of the massive library. "Don't cry, love. You knew it was going to be difficult." He wiped her tears, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and gathered her close in his arms. "I see myself in that boy, he's going to be a tough nut to crack."**_

"_**I'm not giving up."**_

"_**That boy is a Malfoy, through and through," Leo stated as he gazed into her eyes, seeing the stubborn resolve begin to form and settle.**_

"_**So am I, love."**_

* * *

Sorry for the late upload! I've been extremely busy with academics! But I thought I should upload something for my loyal followers! Review, review! Please review and let me know what you think!


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